


Sleeping

by xTheLastOfUs



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Complete, Depression, F/F, Implied mental illness, Mental Illness, Mentioned/Referenced/Implied Depression, Not Happy, Suicide, Tragedy, Triggers, probably not very well written, trigger warning, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTheLastOfUs/pseuds/xTheLastOfUs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When I found her she was already far too gone for me to save her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING- Potential triggers for suicide and mental illness. If you or anyone you know is suicidal please seek help. And remember that no matter what I love you. Please don't read this if it might trigger you. If you need anyone to talk to I would love to talk to you; I am always open to talk.

"Historia... Baby... Wake up."

I am pleading with her, shaking her as hard as I dare to, but she does not move. She is in a sleep too deep right now. I just needed to keep shaking her. She would wake up. She would, she always did when I needed her. Her blonde hair sticks to her forehead, matted to her head by a sticky red substance. It was everywhere, soaked everything. The bathtub was full of it, blood and water. It was her blood. But she could still wake up. Couldn't she? She had to.

"Historia! Historia, wake up!"

It wasn't warm anymore. It was cooling off, spilled too long ago to still be as warm as she was. She was cooling down too, but she was just resting. I should let her rest, right? I let her get enough sleep, she'll forgive me. She won't be angry with me anymore. She wouldn't argue with me. She would just be happy. I lay her back down, making sure to be gentle so she wouldn't wake up. I'm glad she didn't when I was shaking her- that would've upset her and nothing ever went right when she was upset. That always made me angry, when she was upset with me. Most of the time I never even did anything.

She slumps against the porcelain bathtub, the entire thing covered in blood. There's so much blood that for a moment I think that maybe some of it was mine, but the only place that hurt was my chest and even then I wasn't so dumb as to not realize that it was an emotional sort of hurt. It always hurt when she got mad or upset.

I draw patterns with the blood on her pale skin. It's a little difficult, because she's already drenched in it, mostly around her forearms. She didn't seem like she was hurt, though. She would be awake if she were. Maybe she'd be crying, too, her little cheeks reddened. I dip my fingers to the bottom of the tub again, the blood rising up my arm. It was watered down. I draw a flower on her shoulder with my pinky. It was a little crooked. 

Soon I've exhausted all interest I feel towards drawing on her skin. I slump against the side of the tub, stretching my legs out on the linoleum. I had blood on me, too, but mostly on my arms and chest from where I pulled her out of the water. Her head was under the water when I walked in; she must have fallen asleep in the tub. I wish she would wake up soon, I think, looking down at my hands. I set the knife aside a while ago. I look to the sink. My phone was perched precariously on top of it, the edge sticking out. It vibrated, the high pitched sounds of my ringtone echoing and bouncing off of the walls and the blood. I wonder how Historia got into the tub. I didn't put her there. She must've been in the tub first before any of the blood, because when I walked in there wasn't any outside of the tub. Now it was just on me. From when I tried to wake her up.

The ringing stops. I reach for the knife, flung against the farther wall,  next to the toilet. I threw it out of the way when I walked in, too panicked for her safety. The reach is too far, though, and I end up having to crawl on my hands and knees to get it. As I wrap my hands around the handle, fingers slick with blood, I lose my balance and fall sideways. My head cracks against the floor, and I utter a curse. My head aches, rings with pain, and the knife clatters to the floor. I sit up, leaning against the toilet, cradling my head in my hands. I had a godawful headache now. The ringing starts up again and I reach up towards the phone, almost dropping it because my hands were so slick. The caller ID says it's Bertoldt. I don't answer.

"Historia?" My voice sounds shaky and broken and rough, like I'd been screaming and crying for hours. Had I? I only walked in here a few minutes ago, maybe at about 2:30. I look at the time. It was nearing 3 o'clock. This couldn't be happening. I look at Historia. She was slumped against the side of the tub, stiff, skin looking ashen. She must be sick. That's the only answer, right? It couldn't be her wrists. She promised she would stop hurting herself. I lean against the toilet and sobs begin to wrack my body. She said she would stop. She said she wouldn't. She fucking promised me. I trusted her.

"Historia!" My voice is loud, echoing. "No! No-" My sobs cut off. Someone was knocking on the front door. I hear a familiar voice calling for me. It was Reiner. His voice was a little faint to my ears. Everything sounded muffled.

I can't answer, only cry. After a few moments of knocking, worried calling for the two of us, I hear the door being opened. I hadn't locked it. Reiner calls for us, and from what I hear Bertl and Annie were with him. "In here-" My answer was a choked sob. I hear their footsteps change direction, heading towards me.

"Ymir?" He sounds worried. "Are you guys okay- Oh my god-"

He stops in the doorway, shocked. Horrified. Bertl's hand is pressed to his mouth. Annie's eyes are wide. I make eye contact with her, ice blue eyes struggling to process the scene, and everything in me breaks.

Historia wasn't sleeping. She was dead. Dead and I was an idiot for not realizing that. I curl into a ball and scream.

Everything blurs. The police are called and I can't tell when I stop screaming, just know that everything is fucked. Bertl calls our friends, voice shaking with tears. Her blood sticks to my skin. I wanted to die. 

I am guided out of our house by an officer. The whole street is taped off, bright yellow police tape cutting everyone off. People are crowded around in tight, all of our friends at the very front. It felt like their gazes were burning holes in me. "Ymir!" That's Eren. He knew. He knew the feeling- that's how his mother went, after all. I look at him, tears pouring over onto my cheeks. I look to the ground and feel hollow.

I'm lead to the sidewalk. I sit down there and curl in on myself. Her blood on my hands made me feel sick. I am exhausted and if I had anything in my stomach I would have thrown up by now. My thoughts come in broken pieces. Nothing felt okay.

When they wheel her out, black bag holding her body, I lose it. I scream her name, begging and pleading 'no' and telling her to come back, that she couldn't do this to me. It takes three officers to restrain me, to keep me from running to her. 

Someone drapes a coat over me. Her blood would get on the coat. It was all over my clothes.

Her blood would stain. I would always feel it.


End file.
